


Through Your Teeth

by BeyondStarlight



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Anal Sex, Handcuffs, M/M, Phobos riding Deimos like a pro, Prompt Fill, Starfighter Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:05:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4740668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeyondStarlight/pseuds/BeyondStarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Well, I guess being Cain’s bitch is your priority.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the starfighter kink meme, this one in particular:  
> http://starfighterkinkmeme.tumblr.com/post/127777377537/anything-with-deimos-in-handcuffs-and-phobos  
> Prompt: "Anything with Deimos in handcuffs and Phobos riding him like a pro"
> 
> I have no idea how much of a dom/sub they were supposed to be and this was a great cause of frustration haha. Sorry if I got it wrong. I don't regret this fanfic in the slightest bit though. 
> 
> (btw dont you hate it when you kind of like a ship, and then you read this prompt and you're all like "i can probably do that", so you write this one single fanfic about them and the next day you wake up and it's your otp, and you're all like this is not according to keikaku, but it's too late already and you're trapped with all these feels for two damn space assholes. dont get me started.)
> 
> This was unbeta'd and I'm not native English, all corrections and critique are welcome!  
> Enjoy!

“Leaving again?”

Phobos’ voice is nonchalant, though dismay comes naturally to him. The bed creaks just the slightest bit as he shifts to throw a glance over his shoulder at Deimos’ behind. A lazy smirk tugs at his lip as he muses, “I hate to see you go."

Deimos stops in the doorway. It’s quiet for a few seconds, and he wonders where he should look for Abel first. He pretends it’s the choice between left and right that has his feet stuck to the ground. Though he can’t deny that, despite questioning Abel’s whereabouts, it’s not actually Abel whom he’s thinking about.  
Cold air from the hallway hits his face and slips past his feet into the room. A few drops of water fall from his hair onto his shoulders, and the scent of soap is strong on his skin. He stares straight ahead of him, and listens closely to the rustle of sheets behind him. He can’t tell whether it’s a sign for him to leave or to linger another moment. Phobos yawns and stretches lazily.

“Well, I guess being Cain’s bitch is your priority.”

He clenches his jaw. Someone passes further down the hallway, vague figure catching in the corner of his eye. However, his attention is more drawn to the slow and long strides that stop right behind him. He turns his head calmly, feeling the warmth of Phobos’ chest against his back. Their noses are almost touching, and he holds his breath for a moment. They pin each other with their stare, a predator-like glint in Phobos’ eyes. Fingertips graze his sides, until they reach his hips and Phobos’ hands touch him more firmly. His low voice purrs into Deimos’ ear. “Why don’t you spend a little time with me?”

Cain asked him to keep an eye out for Abel, especially lately. There’s always tension between him and Praxis, but whenever they get especially ugly with each other, Deimos likes to make sure it doesn’t get worse. It isn’t hard to tell Praxis is rather fond of Abel too, and the fist fight that would ensue if Praxis ever did anything to Abel that Cain wouldn’t approve of, it wouldn’t come near to what they had already done to each other.

"Stay, Deimos."  
The taste of unfulfilled promises is stickily sweet on his tongue. Wherever Phobos’ lips brush over his skin, goosebumps follow. When his nails dig into his hipbones Deimos grabs his wrists, holding them still for only a few seconds before his hands continue to move down his hips to his crotch. Phobos ignores the bruises Deimos makes with the force of his grip, and touches him eagerly through his pants. A smirk tickles the back of Deimos' neck when his cock reacts. His eyes dart through the empty hallway as he muffles a groan. The palm of Phobos’ hand grinds teasingly against his hardening dick, and teeth press into his neck. “Stay.”

Footsteps run up the stairs further down the hallway, and something snaps in his mind. Suddenly he digs his nails into Phobos’ wrists and steps back swiftly. The door closes instantly before him. Just as he turns to face Phobos he is pushed back against it. A chuckle dies between them, its last breath catching onto Deimos’ lips as they lean into a kiss. His suit is unzipped impatiently, goosebumps running down his skin at the touch of Phobos’ fingertips on his hot skin.

People pass by behind the door, and both of them freeze. Familiar voices ring through the hallways; Ethos and Praxis. They hold their breath against each other’s lips, tongues moving slowly before Phobos jerks his pants down. His erection hardens to Phobos’ eager touch, stroking it over its whole length. He bites Phobos’ lower lip, smothering the moan Phobos draws from him. His thumb runs over the head of his cock, making Deimos shut his eyes and dig his nails into Phobos’ back. He can feel the grin breaking through the sloppy kisses that litter his neck, shoulders and chest.  
Phobos lowers his pace with jerking Deimos off, until he loosens his grip gradually. His fingertips trace invisible lines all over Deimos’ erection. Soft _ah_ ’s and _oh_ ’s toppling over his lips, while his breaths growing increasingly shallow with every languid stroke.  
Then his hand is gone, and Deimos’ dick is erected into empty air. Deimos catches his breath silently, eyes pinned on Phobos. The blush on his cheeks softens his ravenous eyes and smirk. “On my bed.”

Thoughts are slipping through his mind like sand through fingers and dreams through experience. He steps out of his clothes entirely and lies down on the bed. As soon as he sits down, Phobos is on his lap, their lips melting into a hungry kiss. Phobos leans forward, pushes him further onto the bed and crawls over him. His knees sink into the mattress just above Deimos’ hips. Deimos’s fingertips trail over the smooth suit that still covers Phobos. He grinds his hand against the bulge in his pants, and Phobos moans into their kiss. He pulls back, eyes narrowed and clouded with lust.  
“Hands up.”  
Deimos moves his hands over his head slowly. His thoughts are hazy, dick still untouched and skin itchy for friction. When Phobos slips handcuffs from underneath the mattress, his eyes widen briefly. He keeps his hands still as Phobos pins them into place with a playful smirk. A butterfly kiss brushes over his lips, but Phobos quickly returns to teasingly bite his lower lip, just enough to taste a hint of blood.

Deimos’ eyes travel down Phobos’ body, following the lines and stitches of the suit to his erection, which presses painfully against the tight pants. Phobos kisses and bites his way down until his tongue teases Deimos’ nipple, while his nails scrape lightly over his skin. They send shivers over Deimos’ whole body as he goes lower and lower, stopping at the base of Deimos’ erection.  
“Do you want something, Deimos?” Phobos’ voice vibrates against his chest. He chuckles, raises himself slightly so they’re facing each other. His fingertips draw shapes and circles around the base of Deimos’ cock. He closes his eyes and thrusts his hips up. Their noses touch, and Phobos sighs. “You know, I could just leave you here.” He follows invisible lines down Deimos’ inner thighs, which spread further open without hesitation, “Trust me, these handcuffs will keep you right here for as long as I want,” Deimos groans behind closed lips, but he still catches Phobos mouthing, “ _As long as I want._ ”

Phobos runs his fingers up the length of his cock teasingly, precum sticking to his fingers. Deimos bites the inside of his cheek hard. “Oh,” He draws circles over the head of his dick, making him shudder violently underneath him, “You were enjoying this the whole time?” He palms the top of his cock and jerks softly. Deimos yanks at the handcuffs and inhales sharply through his teeth. “And yet you’ve barely made a sound.” Deimos breath is haggard and shallow, heart racing in his chest as he tries to keep himself together. He tastes blood in his mouth. “I want to hear you a little more,” Phobos licks Deimos’ lips, which part without a thought. His hand goes down Deimos’ erection slowly before he gradually returns to the top. Phobos pulls back a little every now and then between their sloppy kisses, savouring every moan that slips through Deimos’ parted lips. When he straightens himself again, his voice is low and commanding. “Louder, Deimos.”

He starts jacking him off ruthlessly, and Deimos can only throw his head back and yank his arms down. His eyes are shut as he grasps for air between the noises that spill over his lips. Phobos slides a finger into his mouth, the slick heat of Deimos’ tongue making him shiver as he starts sucking. Deimos’ own fingers are curled around the chain between handcuffs. Heat spreads like fire in his lower abdomen and he opens his eyes to see Phobos staring down on him hungrily.

“Not yet.”

Phobos’ hand stops at his base and holds him there tightly, and the burning heat turns into a simmer. Deimos _whines_. It’s soft, barely audible as it lingers on his breath, but it makes a smug smile curl Phobos’ lips.

He straightens himself, knees sinking deeper into the mattress next to Deimos’ sides. Phobos unzips his own suit, deliberately taking his time. “I should leave you here,” He tuts, as if he is scolding a child, and shakes his head a little, “Leave you handcuffed to the bed, all hot and bothered on your own. Until I return. Or until someone else walks in.” His voice is unwavering, but sweat shimmers on his skin and his erection is painfully hard underneath his pants. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?” He chuckles, both his thumbs between his skin and pants as he pushes them down at once, his erection finally exposed. He flings the pants away and reaches out to hold Deimos’ chin up. With his other hand he starts touching himself. “You are quite a sight, Deimos.”

Deimos watches his shoulders roll back slightly to relax, heavy-lidded eyes clouded with nothing but pleasure as he raises his head slightly. His hand lowers to hold onto Deimos’ shoulder as he starts thrusting his hips into his fist. Deimos’ mouth runs dry, the image going directly to his cock. He reflectively jerks at the handcuffs, the metal biting into his wrists. His voice breaks shakily through his panting. “Phobos.”  
Phobos slows down, his fingers uncurling, wet with precum. “I almost thought you were going to make me come alone,” He snickers, but the sneer is thin in his voice, and he plants a hungry kiss on his lips.

“I want you inside me,” He mouths against his lips. Deimos arches his back instinctively, the thought consuming his mind, “Writhing like a filthy animal,” He draws shorter breaths between his words. Deimos feels him against his cock, lowering himself slowly and digging his nails hard into Deimos’ back. “Thrashing against those handcuffs,” He snickers breathlessly, and a small “Ah,” slips over his lips. Deimos draws a sharp breath, eyes tightly shut, and he pulls down on the handcuffs with all his strength. The tight heat around the top of his cock makes him shudder violently, “I want you begging for me, Deimos.”  
“Phobos,” Deimos reaches out to kiss his mouth, but Phobos raises his head, so he plants his lips onto his neck. He sucks and leaves dark marks as he goes down to his collarbone. His tongue teases his nipples, and he can feel Phobos’ chest rising and falling faster and sharper underneath his lips with each kiss. A long moan rolls over Phobos’ tongue, “Deimos, I want you so bad,” His voice is barely audible through his panting. “ _So bad_.”

Phobos comes to a halt halfway, shakily catching his own breath. His fingertips run over Deimos’ skin, spreading goosebumps wherever they go and making him shiver. Deimos tries to hold still desperately. The cutting pain in his wrists doesn’t register as he tries to keep his hips down, keep himself from thrusting ruthlessly into Phobos.  
He groans and licks his lips, “Phobos, please.” He lets his head fall back and pushes his shoulders down as he whines in his mouth. Wet kisses are pressed hungrily against his neck.

“Such a good boy.”

Deimos doesn’t have the time to open his eyes. Phobos sits down all the way, until Deimos’ throbbing cock is completely inside him, and starts moving.  
“Ah, fuck,” Deimos gasps as his mind goes completely white, and all he can do is thrust his hips up. His fists are shaking as he pulls against the handcuffs, pleasure running through his body like electricity.  
Phobos doesn’t silent his moans as he rolls his hips over Deimos’ cock. He moves fast and hard, trying to get Deimos’ dick to hit the spot. Then he digs his nails deep into Deimos’ skin and inhales sharply through his teeth. “Fuck,” He utters as he slows down, each hit against his prostate making him shudder. Deimos arches up as much as he can, putting more force behind each thrust. His mind goes bank with white hot desire. With one hand Phobos starts jacking himself off again. His other hand grabs Deimos’ hair to yank his head back. He leans forward to plant a hungry kiss on his mouth, hips thrashing into him. Noises are smothered between them, some escaping when they part to gasp for air.

Deimos watches his movements become more vicious, his cries growing louder and his eyes shutting tightly. Phobos’ hips crash into him hard and he claws him through his grip, trying to pull him closer. He can see how Phobos tilts his head just the slightest bit, eyes rolling up and breath caught in his throat for a second. He feels him shudder atop of him, tight on his erection and his come spilling over Deimos’ chest and stomach. Deimos thrusts his hips up as much as he can, the narrow heat around his dick driving him insane. He pulls at the handcuffs and shuts his eyes tightly. Phobos catches his breath for hardly a moment before curling his fingers into Deimos’ hair again. He rides him hard, pearl of swear trailing down his body as he thrashes his hips into Deimos, who gasps for air. His lips are parted, Phobos’ name weaved into his breath. Deimos tenses, back arched as he presses himself deep into Phobos, who rides him through his orgasm. He gasps for air, the heat still burning in his abdomen and a stickily sweet lightness in his head.

His eyes close and he inhales deeply. He can feel Phobos move, his cock still inside him. The handcuffs click, and his hands fall inelegantly beside him, no strength left in them. Phobos reaches out for them and places a butterfly kiss on the inside of each red and purple wrist.

He stands up without a single word. From the corner of his eyes, Deimos notices the faintest smile on his lips. Phobos disappears into the bathroom, quietly, for once. It’s the silence that allows Deimos to realise that he has no idea about Abel’s whereabouts. If he won’t be able to localise Abel soon, and more importantly, make sure nothing happened in the meanwhile, Cain is definitely not going to do easy on him. The shower starts to run in the bathroom. Deimos gets to his feet. Last time Cain got angry with him they left with the taste of blood thick in their mouths. His fingertips trace the burning bite marks down his neck and chest. He opens the door, damp warmth embracing him, and steps underneath the warm stream of water. There’s a little curl in Phobos’ lips as he glances over his shoulder, but Deimos leans in to kiss him before he can say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> you know I'm checking this fic probably every few hours and when you give a kudo that's really motivating, but a comment makes my day so much you have no idea (unless you write fanfic too, then you know the joy). thank you!


End file.
